


Haven't Got Time For The Pain

by Ursula



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Domestic Discipline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-06
Updated: 2004-08-06
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:24:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursula/pseuds/Ursula
Summary: Walter loses an old friend.Written for Xanthe's birthday a couple years ago





	Haven't Got Time For The Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Haven't Got Time For The Pain

 

For Xanthe's Birthday:

From Ursula

 

(An angst-filled Walter centered story with a happy ending)

 

 

"House is dark," Alex observed.

 

"That's what they pay you the big bucks for, right? Your ability to observe and state the obvious," Mulder said.

 

"Shut up, Mulder," Alex replied. "You think the power went out or something?"

 

"Hope not, because what I need is a hot shower and then a hot steamy session in bed, neither of which I will get if the damn power is out," Mulder observed.

 

Alex held a flashlight as Mulder got the keys.

 

As Mulder tried the light switch, his foot crunched into glass. He cursed and said, "What the hell?"

 

The lights illuminated the display cabinet that housed some of their treasures. The glass had been shattered and their prized possessions lay scattered on the floor. Mulder rescued his collector's first press Elvis album. It was intact as was Alex's first edition War and Peace. Mulder's basketball trophy was cracked at the base. Alex's Faberge egg was totally shattered.

 

"We must have been burgled," Mulder said.

 

Instantly both men yelled, "Walter!"

 

Racing through the house, hearts pounding, Mulder and Alex finally found their lover in the downstairs bathroom. He reeked of old whiskey and fresh puke. So much for any hope of lovemaking.

 

Alex knelt to help Walter up. A sudden violent thrust of Walter's hand knocked Alex across the room. He toppled into the bathtub in a way that would have been funny if it had not been accompanied with a sharp crack.

 

"Shit, Walter..." Mulder snapped.

 

Torn between his lovers, Mulder jittered indecisively before helping Alex to the toilet seat. The bloody head wound had impelled his choice. "You all right, Alex?" Mulder asked.

 

"Yeah, I'll live," Alex said, but his eyes were tight with pain, physical and emotional.

 

Mulder gave Alex a sterile pad from the well-stocked first aid kit. He followed with one of the chemical cold packs after making sure that Alex's pupils were evenly dilated.

 

Meanwhile, Walter staggered to his feet, took one look at Alex, and spewed more bile on the floor. Mulder caught sight of the picture in Walter's hand. It was of Walter's unit from Vietnam. It belonged in the shattered curio cabinet. The picture fell to the floor and Walter toppled when he tried to pick it up. Mulder captured it instead and put it on the top of the toilet tank.

 

Damn! Mulder wondered how he and Alex could have been so foolish. Following up the lead on a group selling Consortium technology was important, but if they had remembered that tomorrow was Veteran's day...

 

Still, Walter might have the blues on Veteran's Day but this was more than the blues.

 

Mulder checked Alex one more time before wrestling Walter into the tub enclosure. He swallowed hard as he peeled off the soiled tee shirt and sweatpants. Walter smelled foul as an alley outside a cheap tavern. God knows how much he had drank...

 

"Alex, call Scully, will you? For you and Walter," Mulder said.

 

Alex extracted his cell phone. Alex said, "Scully, it's Alex."

 

"No, Walter and Mulder haven't come to their senses and kicked me out," Alex said. "Walter is sick. Can you come? No, I don't think an emergency room is the answer."

 

Scully's irate voice snapped from the phone.

 

Alex said, "Okay, listen, he's drunk, very drunk and he hurt my head. Yeah, Mulder's here."

 

After another period of wincing and listening, Alex said, "Bring Doggett. Maybe he can help us deal with Walter. It's something about Veteran's Day."

 

Alex glanced nervously at Mulder after he hung up. He said, "Walter likes Doggett and Doggett's a Marine too."

 

Mulder could understand why Alex might hesitate to reveal that Scully and Doggett were together. Mulder suspected they were dating, but Scully hadn't opened the subject for discussion. It wasn't as if he had a right to complain. He loved Scully, but he wasn't in love with Scully. His loves were right here and now both of them were hurting.

 

Starting the shower, Mulder fought the temptation to turn the water to as cold a setting as possible. He might have done it except that Walter wasn't able to stand in the shower without help. Since Mulder would have to suffer the cold with his lover, he set the water for warm instead.

 

Walter was dry heaving by the time Scully had arrived.

 

Scully muttered to herself as she took Walter's pulse and checked his vitals. She said, "Walter, how much did you drink and what?"

 

"A fifth," Walter said. "Maybe two."

 

"Sit down, Alex," Scully said, noticing Alex hovering in the

doorway. "John won't bite you."

 

"Not unless I see his rabies shot record," John commented.

 

Doggett wasn't very happy to find out his boss and best friend was hiding big bad Alex Krycek in his home. He had been horrified when he found out that Alex was far from dead, that he was living with Walter and Mulder, and, in a relationship with them.

 

Slumping in a chair, Alex hid his expression with the ice pack. Mulder said, "John, please remember that this is Alex's house too."

 

"Yeah, sorry," John said. "Let's go see what's left in your liquor cabinet.

 

A swift investigation found that Walter had emptied a gift bottle of Connemara Single Malt. As Mulder remembered, all three of them had a jigger from the bottle when Alex had bought it for Walter last Christmas. Mulder swiftly explained that to Scully.

 

"Walter, did you take anything besides the whiskey? Did you drink more than what was in that bottle?" Scully asked.

 

"Fuck you, Scully, can't a man have a wake in peace?" Walter said.

 

"Answer her, Walter," Mulder said.

 

"No," Walter said.

 

"A wake for who?" Doggett asked.

 

"Matt Cotter," Walter said. "Good old Agent Orange...only agent I know that's more of a killer that pretty pretty Alex."

 

Mulder saw that hit home to Alex although his lover tried to mask the pain. Scully asked, "Who was Matt Cotter?" as she moved over to have a look at Alex.

 

"This is going to need stitches," Scully said.

 

"Go ahead," Alex replied.

 

"I shouldn't do this," Scully remarked, but she dug out her suture kit, all too often used in the field on her partners.

 

"Come on, Mulder, let's get Walter to bed," Doggett said.

 

"You wish," retorted Mulder, "Alex and I don't share."

 

"Don't be a dick head," Doggett said.

 

"Don't want to go," Walter said, "I have guests." This last statement was delivered with enormous drunken dignity.

 

When Mulder reached for him anyway, Walter lashed out at him as he had at Alex. Mulder managed to evade the blow. Despite his sympathy for Walter, he had totally lost his patience with him at the moment. He was ready to drag Walter out of the room and possibly kick his ass all the way up the stairs.

 

Alex said, "Best thing is to just leave him alone and keep an eye on him."

 

"That's right," Scully agreed. "Tilt your head back, Alex."

 

Out-voted, Mulder slumped into a seat. He winced as Scully cleaned the area and then took two delicate stitches. Alex didn't make a noise although Mulder knew that his lover had no inhibitions about showing pain.

 

"What happened to Alex?" Walter asked.

 

"You hit him," Mulder snapped.

 

"What?" Walter mumbled.

 

"It was an accident," Alex said.

 

Before Scully left, she examined Walter again. She said, "Don't leave him alone. If you notice clammy skin, rapid shallow breathing, or if you can't wake him, call 911. It's better to be embarrassed than

dead."

 

"Yeah," Mulder said.

 

"And check on Alex too. I don't think he has a concussion, but a little caution is a good thing," Scully said.

 

OooOooO

 

An elephant was tap dancing inside Walter's skull. His mouth was dry. His stomach burned and ached as if he had volunteered to be a heavy bag. The last thing he could remember was getting that call from Matt Cotter's wife. He had been meaning to get down there and see the man one more time before cancer finished its slow process of devouring

him.

 

Walter remembered being reasonable and kind, offering her help, talking about the man they both remembered. After that, he remembered pouring a drink to toast his old friend. Thereafter, it was mostly a blank.

 

Sitting up, Walter had to brace himself for a moment as his skull shattered into shrapnel. The next thing he saw when he recovered enough to notice was that Alex's head, nestled next to Mulder's on a pillow, was bandaged. He knew he should have insisted on going with his lovers yesterday. Now Alex was hurt.

 

Walking stiff-legged, an occasional hand on the wall necessary to fight the gravity which seemed to have a personal vendetta today, Walter made his way to the bathroom. His last few steps were hurried as his stomach rebelled.

 

Nothing much came out of Walter's abused organ, he rinsed his mouth, brushed his teeth, repeated, and then sniffing the vinegar of old whiskey reeking from his pores, he decided he had better take a long, hot shower.

 

Pulling back the curtain, Walter traced a bloody streak on the tiles that surrounded the tub. At that moment, his knuckles ached. Dimly, like a clip cut from a film, Walter saw himself hitting Alex and his lover falling back.

 

Oh no. Walter didn't want to believe he had done that. After all the agony of dealing with the pain both had inflicted on each other, the last person Walter would have wanted to hit was Alex. Even Mulder would have been better. Their relationship wasn't as fragile.

 

Walter grimily grabbed the bleach cleaner and knelt to scrub the traces from the walls. Mulder came in, as he was finishing.

 

"Guess I should have cleaned that last night," Mulder said. "Somehow it was low in the priorities."

 

"Why did I hit Alex?" Walter said.

 

"You remember that? I had the impression that the camera was running without any film," Mulder said.

 

"I don't clearly remember," Walter admitted, "I just see a brief flash of it."

 

"Yeah, you did it. He reached to help you and you knocked him head over heels," Mulder said, lifting the toilet lid to piss.

 

"Is he okay?" Walter asked, finishing his job.

 

"I'm fine," Alex said from the doorway.

 

"Two stitches," Mulder said. "We called Scully, given the

circumstances. Didn't want a domestic violence charge."

 

"It wasn't your fault, Walter," Alex said. "I understand."

 

"Alex..." Walter said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you."

 

"Don't you think that I know that?" Alex said.

 

"Not that an apology is going to get you out of a spanking," Mulder said. "But first we're going to make you really suffer. You are going to tell us what is going on in that macho bald head."

 

"What did I say last night?" Walter asked. He sniffed and said, "I need a shower. I can't stand the way I smell."

 

"How about a bath instead?" Alex asked. "I know better than to get these stitches wet."

 

Understanding the invitation, Walter felt some of the tension ebb from his body. He was forgiven.

 

Mulder was still pissed. It showed in his swift movements as he filled the large therapeutic bath. All three men had mornings where they ached. The whirlpool bath had been a reasonable investment for that. The sensual delights of a hot bath, enhanced with caressing currents and caressing lovers more than expiated the amount they had paid for the remodel. A small bedroom had been knocked out to accommodate the sybarite bathroom.

 

Alex busied himself with his essential oils. He had been dabbling in aromatherapy. Personally, Walter didn't think much of such an esoteric art, but whatever made Alex happy.

 

Sandalwood...Walter liked Sandalwood. It reminded him of Alex. Making a special effort to please Alex, Walter said, "What's sandalwood for again?"

 

"To calm, to relieve stress, soothe nightmares...for lack of forgiveness," Alex replied steadily. "I'm going to mix it with a little lavender. Lavender's good for trauma and ah...to help calm agitated behaviors."

 

It probably didn't work, but Walter wished that it did. He watched Alex mix the blend and add it to bath salts. He might not believe, but he used the concoction even when Alex was not around. Especially when his lover was away. The smell of precious oil would always mean Alex to him.

 

Mulder was still stiff when Walter touched him. Walter hesitated, but Alex's hand joined his on their lover's body. "Mulder, he didn't mean it. If we can get past all the pain of what we did to each other before, we can get past this."

 

Alex's hand moved over Walter, finding all the sore places as if his heart held the map of Walter's pleasures and pains.

 

Turning to watch, the smoldering anger gradually left Mulder's eyes. He knelt to sponge Walter clean, approaching the act as if it was a ritual.

 

The touch of his lovers, the heat, and even Alex's sacred oils eased Walter's discomfort.

 

"You said that Matt was sick, not that he was dying," Mulder commented.

 

"I should have said something," Walter admitted.

 

"You should have," Mulder agreed with an edge to his voice that suggested that he was going to reinforce the lesson with physical reminders.

 

That was good too.

 

"You don't touch Walter until you don't feel angry anymore," Alex said.

 

"You could do it," Mulder pointed out.

 

"You know I can't," Alex said.

 

"You could," Walter said. "Alex, you really could."

 

"You should," Mulder added. He met Walter's eyes and added, "Not because I'm angry. Because it's time, Alex. Walter just said so."

 

"But," Alex said.

 

"You expect me to believe that you have forgiven me utterly if you won't show me that you believe the same of me?" Walter asked.

 

Alex, so graced with words, had not one to say. He trembled instead.

 

Enfolding Alex in his arms, Walter closed his eyes and said, "Last night, all I could think about was "Why me? Why did I live? Matt is...was a husband, a father, his parent's only child. He was the orderly that took care of me when I was recovering from my wounds in Vietnam. He was fresh off the front lines himself. He shattered his ankle, carrying a guy to the helicopter. He was still using a crutch most of the time, but you couldn't keep him from helping. Matt helped me back from the edge of madness. How could God let him be eaten alive by a cancer? A cancer that the government won't even admit is still killing American soldiers!"

 

"You have people who love you too," Mulder said.

 

"I know," Walter said. "Maybe I was punishing myself because part of me was glad that it wasn't me. Because I knew that soon my lovers were coming home, surrounding me with joy."

 

"You're alive," Alex said. "Hell, I'm alive. I know that I don't deserve any of this, but as both you and Mulder have enforced on my butt a million times, I have it anyway and I better be damn glad."

 

That made Walter laugh despite his persistent headache. He remembered yelling at Alex, "Damn your Russian drama, you're fucking here, you're fucking alive, and there's nothing you can do to make me stop loving you."

 

They fell silent then or any remaining language was that of love spoken only by touch.

 

Mulder was never one to be silent for long however. Several moments later, he announced, "We're getting wrinkled. Come on, guys, time to finish this."

 

OooOooO

 

Helpless, vulnerable, draped over Alex's lap, his hands locked in Mulder's, Walter let his body process each sensation, each phase of emotion.

 

Fear...what if Alex hadn't forgiven him? What if his lover

resurrected every painful transaction in their spotted history and turned it against him?

 

Anger...what right had Alex Krycek to punish anyone? Hadn't the bastard done enough to warrant a lifetime of abuse?

 

Realization...that Walter could let go of control; that he had agreed long ago to trust his lovers utterly when he had done something wrong.

 

Acceptance...Alex would take care of him. Alex was the perfect one to do this. Alex knew the darkness and there was nothing Walter had ever done that his lover could not understand and forgive.

 

Pain...the first blow burning on his ass like fire. Walter bit his lip to keep his exclamation of pain inside.

 

One arm doing the work of two meant abnormal strength. Walter had not thought of that.

 

Jesus, Alex was using the hairbrush that Walter had ordered for him from Mason and Pearson. Just the night before last, Walter had lovingly stroked Alex's hair into silken order with it.

 

What did he mean by that?

 

"You're alive," Alex said. "You have no right to question why you survived. You just have to live. You have to let yourself feel. Feel the joy...let go of the pain. Whatever time we are privileged to share, it won't be enough for me, but I won't miss one second of it."

 

A second blow, more than stinging, bruising him deeply. Walter uttered a strangled yell.

 

The third one hit him in that tender area between ass and leg. Walter knew he was crushing Mulder's hands. Mulder's face was white, but he would not let Walter go. He would never let Walter go.

 

A fourth, a fifth, and now Walter wept. He wept for the pain. He wept for Matt. He wept for every name on the wailing wall in the capital. He wept for his lost self, the gawky boy plunged into war and losing his innocence in that hellish battle.

 

Walter's tears became a benediction. The blows stopped and he felt Alex's hand rubbing his back.

 

"Now, Walter, now, let it go. You have no reason to feel guilty. Every reason to live. Every reason to savor each moment of this life," Alex said. "You haven't got time for the pain."

 

Walter knew that Alex spoke for all three of them. He was right.

 

In the haze of tears that still obscured his vision, Walter saw Matt the way he had been, broad face, shining black skin, and his hair already receding from his square set head. His smile, his smile was still like a kid's despite the terror and trauma of that ward of shattered, suffering men.

 

When Matt passed, he would have taken less than a minute to figure out what had happened. He would have taken one last loving look at his family and friends. His body free of pain and weariness, he would have given a glad shout as he saw the infinite new adventure in store for him.

 

Matt Cotter never wasted time on regrets. Matt Cotter would rather spend any extra time picking and singing on his old guitar than worrying about why he had survived and others had passed. He gave his love and gentleness to the living. He celebrated his dead in memories of the best moments of their lives.

 

As Matt had taught Walter to live after his near-death in Vietnam, his death was another lesson he would lovingly teach.

 

When Matt had asked if Walter would be attending Veteran's Day's observations with his lovers a week ago, Walter had said, "No, I thought Doggett and I would go. John's an ex-marine like me."

 

Matt had said, "Anyone who would begrudge you whom you love isn't worth the time of day. Go with the ones who love you best."

 

Walter hadn't replied then. He had still been thinking about it. Matt was right, of course, but there was a place he would need his lovers even more.

 

Walter looked at his lovers and said, "Come with me to his funeral. His wife asked me to sing and I just thought of the perfect song for him. Or maybe it's the perfect song for us."

 

OooOooO

 

A day later, Walter carefully put his battered guitar case at his feet. The black limo had plenty of room, but Walter wouldn't trust his beloved acoustic Martin to the trunk.

 

Looking around, at his lovers, at Scully, Reyes, and Doggett, whom had all insisted they go to support him, Walter nodded to himself. He was never alone these days. He was loved. He could feel Matt grinning down at him from heaven.

 

"Old man, you're going to shake that place up like you shook everything up," Walter said. "You keep that guitar tuned and teach the angels to pay some rock and roll. I'll be expecting a jam session when I get there."

 

As Alex leaned against him and Mulder's hand discreetly brushed his knee, Walter added, "But don't expect me soon. I still have a lot of living and loving to do."

 

Walter must have said that last aloud. Alex and Mulder said in unison, "Amen."

 

"Got that right," agreed Doggett.

 

Plenty of time for lovers and friends, Walter thought, letting go of the last of the pain.

 

The End

 

Sound track for this story:

 

Haven't got time for the pain

 

Roberta Flack

 

All those crazy nights when I cried myself to sleep

Now melodrama never makes me weep anymore

cause I haven't got time for the pain

I haven't got room for the pain

I haven't the need for the pain

Not since I've known you

You showed me how, how to leave myself behind

How to turn down the noise in my mind

Now I haven't got time for the pain

I haven't got room for the pain

I haven't the need for the pain

Not since I've known you

I haven't got time for the pain

I haven't got room for the pain

I haven't the need for the pain

 

Sufferin' was the only thing made me feel I was alive

Thought that's just how much it cost to survive in this world Til you showed me how, how to fill my heart with love How to open up and drink in all that white light

Pourin' down from the heaven


End file.
